


Little Wonders

by Purpleplasticpurse



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, No one can convince me otherwise, Romance, fluffy & sweet, they're so in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleplasticpurse/pseuds/Purpleplasticpurse
Summary: A series of small moments between Aaron & Emily, in the "five times" format.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 49
Kudos: 54





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I love a good “five times” fic every now and then, so I tried my hand at one. I told myself I’d ONLY work on 37 this week, but it’s giving me a headache at the moment. So here is my little exercise in brevity, while self-indulging my need for some domestic, fluffy, E/A love on my week off. Reality is going to whack me right over the head next week, that’s for sure. And it's another excuse for me to use a Rob Thomas song as a song title, because I low key love Rob Thomas. Some of these little pieces will fit into my Blue Christmas/Perfect To Me universe, but you don’t have to have read those in order for this to make sense. I just love happy Hotchners almost as much as I love making things complicated for them. Enjoy, as always! <3

**5 Times Aaron Hotchner kissed Emily Prentiss**

_ In no particular order _

_ A Kiss In The Bathtub _

It’s a Sunday, one of the few days of the week she gets a couple of minutes of uninterrupted peace. On Sundays, Aaron makes breakfast with the kids. It’s been a thing since Ava turned one, and even though she’s just barely old enough to understand what breakfast is, Jack  _ loves _ their tradition, Aaron even more so.

One of Emily’s favorite sounds in the world is the noise that comes from the kitchen every morning around 9:30 AM - the bang of the pots and pans on the stove, Aaron explaining patiently over and over that  _ no, you can’t let the egg shell get in the batter _ , and  _ no, you can’t lick the spoon _ , and the excited squeals that come when he gives them extra whipped cream right out of the can. It’s a little pleasure, a small moment of joy that comes like clockwork every seven days. The best part of it all is the fact that she doesn’t have to worry about cleaning up the mess left behind. 

Which is why Emily finds herself in the bathtub at 10 AM on a cool Sunday morning in the middle of fall. Her hair is piled on the top of her head in a messy, twisted bun, her face free of any makeup. There’s a mug of coffee on the ledge, the warm water and bubbles lapping against her bare skin. It’s soothing against her sore muscles; she has Aaron to thank for that, she reminds herself with a grin, the events of a few hours before coming back to her. He’d been dizzyingly persistent and determined in his efforts to push her over the edge  _ several _ times, each one more creative than the last. If it hadn’t been for the gentle press of his hand against her lips as she cried out his name all four times, they for sure would have woken the kids. 

Emily smiles to herself, reaching for the mug of coffee and taking a sip. It’s  _ exactly _ as she likes it, with just enough heavy cream and a subtle hint of vanilla and a touch of cinnamon. If she closes her eyes, she might even be able to relax for a few minutes, thanks to the French music coming from her phone, perched on the lid of the toilet. Her eyes slide shut and she slips further into the tub, all the bubbles coming up over her shoulders and nearly touching her chin.

“Someone looks relaxed,” a voice comes from the doorway, and when Emily opens her eyes, Aaron is leaning against the doorframe, looking deliciously casual in a gray t-shirt that’s stained with flour, and a pair of navy sweatpants. There’s flour on his forehead and in his hair, which is perfectly tousled. She only smiles, glancing at the clock on the wall.  _ Has it really been almost a full half hour?  _

“I am,” she tells him, sitting up so he gets the perfect view of her chest covered just enough with the bubbles, but not leaving too much to the imagination. Some water sloshes onto the floor but she doesn’t care. “Sounds like you’re having a good time.” 

“Well, it’s cleanup time, and you know how much they love that,” Aaron says with a chuckle. “Jack is making your plate now.” He comes to sit down beside her, reaching for her coffee mug and taking a sip. “You definitely got bathwater in this,” he says, making a face as he sets the mug on the toilet lid next to her phone. “I’ll bring you a fresh one.” 

“I can do it,” Emily says, reaching out and curling her fingers around his arm, wanting him to stay for just a few more minutes, just the two of them. “I have to get moving, anyway.” 

“No you don’t,” he says, bringing his hand to cover hers. “In fact, the kids want to bring you your breakfast in bed.” He smirks when he says it, as if he can predict her reaction perfectly. 

“Oh is that so?” Emily leans back against the wall of the tub, closing her eyes briefly. “Remember the last time that happened?” 

“Jack knocked the tray over when Ava bumped into him trying to climb onto the bed.” Aaron rubs his forehead with his wrist, a soft smile playing on his lips at the memory playing out in his mind.  _ It had been funny _ , he thinks, despite how sad Jack had looked. 

“And Hollandaise sauce went everywhere,” Emily reminds him, sounding more annoyed than she actually is, even though it’d made a  _ huge _ mess. “Just what were the kids doing making eggs benedict, Aaron?” 

“That was my idea,” he says, brushing his lips against her forehead, then down her face. “I handled that one mostly myself.” 

“You don’t say.” 

“Luckily for you, this one’s a little less messy.” He rises to his feet and bends over, reaching for her mug to refill. 

“Oh yeah? What is it?” 

He leans over the tub, kissing her lips with enough force to remind her of just how long he’d spent kissing her the night before. Emily moans, licking into his mouth, their teeth clashing together. She actually gasps out loud when he breaks the kiss, her eyes starting to glaze over. 

He’s grinning at her, looking pleased with himself. “You’ll just have to wait and see.” 

_ A Kiss While Doing Dishes  _

“It’s geography, Aaron,” Emily complains, holding up the green folder in her hands, briefly looking at the assignment in question with a frown. “Plus … this one is long.” 

“What’s wrong with geography?” He asks her, trying not to laugh. 

“I hate geography,” she grumbles, putting some leftovers into one of the pyrex containers with one hand while simultaneously finishing the food on her plate with the other. There are still plates and dishes on the table - Ava had had a meltdown over broccoli less than ten minutes into dinner, leading to a temper tantrum that had all but ended their family dinner. Aaron and Jack ate without them, as Emily used every trick she had to calm her down. 

“Emily, he’s in third grade. It’s not  _ that _ complicated.” Aaron rolls his eyes, amused at his wife’s aversion to the subject. They both tag-team helping Jack with his homework most nights. Emily typically handles anything reading related, patiently helping him with all the complicated words  _ and _ their meanings, quietly encouraging him whenever he stumbles over a new one, and subtly cheering him on when he succeeds. 

Aaron often wonders just how she can be so patient. Reading doesn’t come as easily to his son as he would have liked, but Emily has taken it upon herself to work with him every night on it. Aaron’s focus is math - he prefers it. With math, there’s only one right answer. Since they’ve worked that out, homework related tears have lessened significantly. 

“We already read before you got home. If you take geography homework tonight, I’ll do the dishes.” She cocks her head to the side, her hands on her hips, a pleading smile on her face. 

Aaron considers her briefly, scanning her up and down with his eyes.  _ Emily hates dishes,  _ he thinks,  _ almost as much as I do. _

“Daaaaaad,” Jack complains from the other room. “Please help me? I want to play my game when I’m done with my homework!”

Turning back to Emily, Aaron nods his head in agreement. “Deal.” 

Twenty minutes later, Jack is immersed in his video game, making the most of his half hour of nightly screen time. Ava is perfectly content playing with her blocks while watching her brother, squealing happily every so often, tossing a block in the air. Aaron is watching them both, flipping through a newspaper. 

“Aaron?” Emily calls him from the kitchen. 

She sounds tired, he notices right away. 

“Jack, watch your sister for a minute.” Aaron gets up, making his way into the kitchen, where Emily is bent over the sink, working on the last of the dishes. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” He asks, coming up to stand behind her, looping his arm around her waist, pulling her hips back into his, kissing the side of her face just beside her ear. 

“I made a deal with Ava earlier,” she says softly, pushing a piece of hair out of her eyes with her wrist. “She told me she’d eat broccoli if you read a story with her tonight. She specifically requested her favorite one.” Emily winks, not even bothering to stifle her grin.

“Not the one about the purple plastic purse,” Aaron groans, bringing his other arm around her waist too. “And the mice? I’ve read that one at least four times this week. And a few times last week.” 

“It’s her favorite, Aaron,” Emily quips, rinsing one more dish before sliding it into the dishwasher. “You should have seen her face when I told her you would be more than happy to read it  _ again _ .” 

“She’s just like someone else I know,” he murmurs into her ear, kissing her again, enjoying the way she shivers in his arms. “Clever, knows how to get what she wants.” 

“I wonder who that could be,” Emily retorts, pushing her hips suggestively into his. “Any ideas?” 

There’s the sound of wooden blocks crashing to the ground, and then Ava’s wails. “ _ Mommy! Mommy!”  _

Aaron tightens his grip around Emily’s waist, letting his free hand trail up to her breast, giving a gentle squeeze as he plants one more kiss on her cheek, this one lingering, as if he isn’t quite done with her yet. “We’ll finish this later.” 

“You’ve got yourself another deal.” 

_ The First Kiss  _

The first time he kisses her, she’s almost twenty years old. She's wearing a black leather jacket, dark jeans that make her legs look like matchsticks, and a pair of shoes that could easily snap an ankle with one wrong step. Her long dark hair is blown out straight, and there’s an open bottle of wine in her hand. She’s stretched out underneath of him on a picnic blanket in the middle of a grassy field at sunset in the middle of August.

Aaron can’t help but think she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. There’s just one  _ small _ problem. Her mother is his boss. He’s had his eye on her for the better part of the summer, but he’s  _ new _ to the Ambassador’s security team, and he can’t afford to mess this up. This job is merely a stepping stone to a better one, one he’s had his eye on for a  _ long _ time. 

She sees right through him from the beginning. It’s  _ obvious _ he has a crush on her, but what she won’t tell a soul is that she has a thing for him, too. Aaron keeps his distance - it’s the  _ right _ thing to do, and tries to push the elusive  _ Emily _ out of his mind whenever he’s at the mansion. But she finds him somehow, breaks down his steely exterior with a few witty jokes, a toss of her hair, and a shake of her hips, and he’s a goner right from the start. After that, when she finds him he’s more than willing to talk to her, and he does. All summer long. 

“No one has to know,” is what she tells him when she sneaks into his car minutes after his shift has ended one night in August. “No one will, if you don’t say anything.” 

“I won’t,” he tells her right back, and follows her directions to the small park a few miles away from her mother’s sprawling house. “I take it you’ve been here before?” 

“A few times.” She has a blanket tucked over her arm with that bottle of red wine in the other, and when she finds a suitable place, out of earshot of anyone else, she spreads the blanket onto the grass. “How about here?” 

“Fine with me.” He’s certain he’d sit in the DMV during the busy hours with her if she asked him to. 

They sip the wine - she drinks more than he does but he feels it first - and make small talk as the sun sets. He learns things about her - she speaks six languages.  _ Four fluently, but I can get by in six _ \- is what she tells him, and he only nods, completely smitten from the beginning. She learns he wants to be an FBI agent, and he smiles when she tells him she could see him being in charge one day. 

It’s the  _ perfect  _ kiss. He’s only ever kissed one girl before - Haley, except she’d told him earlier that summer she wanted to take a break,  _ to see what’s out there. _ He hadn’t expected it, but then again, he never expected to find Emily either.

Kissing Emily is much different - she gives as good as she gets, like she means it, and the scent of her perfume and shampoo nearly makes him dizzy when he lowers her down to the blanket, slipping his tongue past her lips and into her mouth. She runs her hand down his face, buries her fingers in his hair, and when he pulls away, her lipstick is smudged and her hair a mess. He’s fairly certain he might die a happy man right then and there. 

But she goes back to Yale only a week after, and she only sounds slightly regretful when she says goodbye. The ache in his chest is dulled just a little when Haley comes to his door one night a short time later, wearing a sheepish grin, saying she wants to give things another go. 

Many years later, Aaron kisses Emily again in the middle of a shabby Colorado hotel room, because he came too close to losing her that day, maybe for good. It feels like the first time all over again as he slides his hands up to her cheeks, gently of course to avoid the bruises that mar her pale skin. They’ve already begun to set, and will be an angry shade of black and blue in the morning. But it doesn’t take away from just how beautiful she really is, he observes, when his heart is in his throat and his lungs won’t work properly. When his lips are  _ finally _ on hers (after over a year of just imagining what it would feel like) he knows the years of waiting were worth it. 

He decides then and there he wants to do it again every single day after that. 

_ 2 AM Kiss  _

_ Damn construction _ , Aaron muses as he opens the front door as softly as he can, locking it behind him and setting the security system. He was supposed to be home over an hour ago.  _ Virginia traffic never fails, no matter what time of day. _ Surely they’re all sleeping - it’s late (really it’s early at this point), and he’d told her not to stay up for him when he’d called just before leaving Minneapolis hours before.

He  _ hopes _ Emily didn’t stay up. It’s only three weeks into her maternity leave - her second in the last three years - and going from two to three has been more of a challenge than either of them ever anticipated. It’s also his first trip back since Grace was born, yet one more adjustment for the both of them. 

Aaron toes off his shoes, leaving them with his coat on the chair by the door, dropping his go bag too. He’ll deal with it later. The house is silent, as he expected it would be. A quick overview of the living room reflects the reality of three kids, one an infant. Toys litter the floor, a few blankets tossed across the large sofa, plastic lidded cups on the coffee table.  _ Something else that can wait til the morning _ , he thinks, bypassing the mess and ascending the stairs. At this point, all he wants is to see Emily. 

The light on her bedside table is on, turned low so as to not wake Grace, sound asleep in the bassinet on Emily’s side of the bed. There’s a bottle on the nightstand and a book perched on her chest, her head tilted to the side, eyes slightly closed. He tiptoes around the end of the bed to Grace, peering into the bassinet, touching the top of the sleeping baby’s head. As if on cue, Emily opens her eyes. 

“You’re back,” she murmurs. 

“Tell me you didn’t wait up.” 

“What if I did?” She asks, pushing herself up against the mountain of pillows behind her head. “Or tried to, at least?” She yawns with a smile, wrapping her arms around his neck as he settles next to her, the mattress sinking under his weight. Breathing him in, Emily sighs contentedly. “I’m so happy you’re home.” 

“Looked like you were sleeping.” Aaron cups the back of her head with one hand, gingerly bringing her closer as their lips meet in a kiss, chaste at first, a quick greeting. Even though it’s been three weeks, she’s still a little sore, especially around her incision. Only when he gets a subtle whiff of her shampoo does he realize just how much he’s missed her. He hugs her a little tighter, smiling into her neck. 

“I fed her not too long ago.” Emily tips her head in Grace’s direction.She’s smiling, yet she looks so tired. “But I was just dozing,” she says, pressing her forehead against his when she pulls away. 

“Right,” he teases, touching the tip of her nose with his finger, running his hand down the side of her face. 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you. Missed you.” She lets him lay her back against the pillows, and he follows her down with one more kiss before he stands up. “How did it go?”

“I missed you too. It was long. Cold. How are you feeling?” 

“Better every day,” she says with a soft smile. “We went on a walk today. Our longest one yet. Everyone was going a little stir-crazy in the house.” 

“All four of you?” Aaron pulls his shirt from the waistband of his pants, making quick work with the buttons before tossing it onto the chair. “I can only imagine how entertaining that was.” 

“Well, Jack insisted on pushing the stroller, and Ava refused to sit for more than five minutes. She says Jack pushes too slowly, and Daddy does it better.” Emily rolls her eyes, even though she looks amused. “I’m sure the neighbors got a real kick out of it.” 

Aaron laughs at the image. “We can go on a walk tomorrow. All five of us.”

She shakes her head. “I’m out tomorrow. That’s all you, Aaron.” 

He tosses his pants to the chair too, reaching for a pair of sweatpants Emily left out for him. “Sounds like a deal,” he says, climbing into bed beside her, sealing his lips over hers once again. 

_ Happy Kiss  _

There’s something slightly off about her lately; he’s determined to figure it out. 

It’s a subtle difference. At home, she’s moody, slightly less patient than normal **.** A few uncharacteristic snaps at him, the low tolerance for any and all of the kids’ arguments. At the office, she’s off her game, if only subtly. But he knows her too well by now; he notices everything. Hell, he’s a profiler, for God’s sake. “My back hurts,” is what she’d told him when he first asked a week ago if something was bothering her, right before they’d gone into the field. She’d pushed him off quicker than he could process her response. 

When she comes to his office in the middle of a rainy Wednesday, he knows right away something is wrong. He’s on the phone but he gestures for her to come in.  _ I’ll be done in a minute,  _ he mouths, and Emily just nods her head in mild annoyance, pacing the floor. Her hand is stuffed in the pocket of her jacket, she looks pale. 

“What is it?” He asks, hanging up the phone, his eyes following her as she paces the length of his office in a few long strides.

“I have to tell you something.”  _ Is that fear he sees in her eyes? _

“What is it? I’m supposed to meet Strauss in a half hour,” he adds, feeling slightly guilty for brushing her off so quickly. 

“I’m pregnant, Aaron.” 

The file in his hands slips right out, with papers spilling all over the floor around his desk. “What?” He’s on his feet in seconds, reaching for her and bringing her into his arms. 

“I just took a test,” Emily says with a hint of panic in her voice. She pulls it from her pocket, staring at it in disbelief, but Aaron only pulls her closer. “The blinds are open, you know.”

“No one is paying attention, sweetheart” he tells her, peppering the side of her face with kisses. “They’re  _ working _ .” 

She shakes her head as the telltale nausea comes roaring back. “I think I need to sit down.”

He leads her to the couch, helping her sit down and settling next to her, their fingers linked together. Emily’s eyes are closed as she breathes, doing everything she can to suppress the roiling in her stomach. 

“You want some ginger-ale?” He might have an extra somewhere in his desk drawer. 

Shaking her head with a groan, Emily lifts her head to meet his gaze. “How did this happen?” she moans, resting her head on his shoulder for a brief second, as she tries to process it all. “We’ve been so careful.”

“I think I remember perfectly, Em,” Aaron says with a chuckle, thinking back to a time just a few weeks ago when they were anything but careful. “You don’t?” 

_ Rossi’s wedding, in the picturesque Northern Virginia wine country, had been a rare, kid-free occasion exactly nine months prior. Ava and Jack had been left in the care of a babysitter along with Henry and Michael, while Aaron, Emily, JJ, and Will, along with the rest of the BAU team, celebrated all night. Of course, they took full advantage of the open bar situation.  _

_ After a few too many glasses of cabernet, one thing had led to another, and they’d snuck off like a couple of newlyweds to one of the gazebos along the tree-lined driveway of the winery, completely oblivious to knowing glances of their friends. _

_ Emily had taken off her shoes along the way and Aaron’s suit jacket was left at the table in their haste. “I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he’d murmured as they laughed, hand in hand, the entire walk down, stealing kisses and pulling each other along. _

_ Once alone, her dress had been pushed up to her waist within seconds, and Emily somehow managed to almost free Aaron from the confines of his dress shirt and pants along with his belt. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she’d complained as her hands struggled to work the buckle in her semi-drunk state.  _

_ “It’s a wedding,” he’d laughed, helping her finish the job, his hands hardly any steadier than hers. “What else do you think I should wear?”  _

_ “This beats dancing,” Emily had breathed into his ear as she sank down onto him once he’d been divested of his pants, perfectly centered on his lap, barely giving herself a chance to adjust to him before she started tentatively moving her hips in a circle. “You know how I feel about dancing.”  _

_ “Trust me, sweetheart, that comes later,” Aaron had said right before starting to move, rocking up into her with the perfect precision that comes with years of practice. He’d anchored her to his chest with one arm, his other hand expertly dipping between her legs. “We’re dancing.”  _

...

“I guess we were pretty dumb.” Emily says, yet she’s smiling at the memory. 

“I seem to remember it differently,” Aaron teases, bringing his hand up to her back, rubbing gentle circles. “Can I get you anything, sweetheart?” 

“No,” she mutters, reaching for his hand. “I need to get back downstairs. Don’t we have a case?”

“You’re out of the field as of right now,” Aaron tells her sternly but his hand is still gentle on her back. “You know that, right?” 

“I couldn’t even run if I wanted to, Aaron.” 

“Why don’t you lay down for a little while? I’ll think of something to tell the team.” He pushes her back onto the couch, reaching for one of the little pillows to support her head.

“They’re going to figure it out immediately.” Emily’s eyes are already closed; she’s curled on her side. She’ll be asleep in a few minutes, he’s sure of it. “They’re not dumb.” 

“I can be pretty convincing.” Aaron leans over to kiss his wife on the cheek, unable to hide the overwhelming happiness that suddenly overtakes him at the thought of having another baby. “I really am so happy, Emily.” 

Her eyes flutter open for a few moments. “Me too, Aaron. Me too.” And when she kisses him back, a smile on her lips, he knows she’s telling the truth.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of small moments between Aaron & Emily, in the "five times" format.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all blew me away with your sweet words on part one! It was a lot of fun to write, for sure. I love when A/E are happy and fluffy and in love… I can’t resist myself sometimes. If only the writers agreed … but I digress. Also, I’m laughing at myself because when I initially started writing these, I told myself each little snippet would only be 700-ish words. Well, that clearly flew out the window and ran far, far away. So much for brevity. Here is part two. As a warning, this one is firmly rated M and essentially all smut … if that’s any indication as to where I’m at this week, and it’s only Wednesday. Oops. Enjoy <3

**5 Times They Almost Got Caught**

_ In no particular order, with a surprise at the end _

_ An Inopportune Phone Call _

“Everyone’s asleep,” Aaron says triumphantly as he pads back into the master bedroom. “I’d say that’s a record.” 

From her place in bed, Emily gives him a smile, peering up from her book. “How long do you think we have until there’s a visitor?” 

With a roll of his eyes, Aaron groans as he shuts the bedroom door. “I don’t know. Everything seemed fine when I left.” Over the last few months, they’d been waking up many nights to find Ava in bed with them, often right in the middle, sucking her thumb with no less than two toys alongside her. At first they overlooked it, but as time went on, it’s become more and more prevalent.

“It’s just a stage, Aaron. She’s barely three years old, and we just had a third baby a few months ago. She needs to know we’re not forgetting about her. JJ and Will went through the same thing, you know.” 

“Who could forget about Ava? She’s not exactly quiet, and certainly doesn’t let anyone forget when she’s around. She reminds me of you.” He smiles when he thinks of his middle child, the one who is in fact an exact replica of Emily, in looks  _ and _ actions. 

“Shut up,” Emily laughs, but she doesn’t deny his sentiment. It’s undoubtedly correct. “They went down early,” she adds, glancing at the clock.

“I know,” Aaron says, almost with guilt. “I bribed them with donuts in the morning.” 

“You’re bribing our children with donuts? For what reason?” Emily sets her book on the nightstand, resting against the pillows.

“Well, I had an idea,” Aaron says, pulling his shirt over his head. “Now that you’re medically cleared, I thought we could … take advantage of their early bedtime.” There’s a brazen, smug look on his face, and it doesn’t take a genius to see what he’s implying. 

“Oh yeah?” Emily tips her head to the side, narrowing her eyes with a smile. “You know it’s only been a day since that appointment, right?” 

“A day too late, if you ask me.” He’s beside her now, curling up next to her, his arm resting across her abdomen. “They did clear you, right?” He cups her cheek with his hand, adoration in his eyes, mixed with the slightest bit of concern. 

“They did,” Emily says smoothly, pushing her fingers through his thick hair. “You do know you have to ease back into that, right?” There’s a moment of hesitation; he catches it right away.

“I’m not clueless, you know.” Aaron is already pulling the strap of her top down over her shoulder with gentle determination. “I know how these things work, sweetheart. We’ve done it once before.” He nuzzles into her neck, pressing kisses along her collar bones and across her chest. 

Emily’s eyes close, enjoying the way he’s paying such attention to her, the gentle brush of his lips and the smoothing of his hands over her arms. They’ve hardly had a few minutes of privacy since bringing Grace home, and she’s missed the quiet moments between them both. Moments like this. By now, as persistent as ever, Aaron has gotten both straps of her top down over her shoulders, and his mouth is hovering right over her breast, his free hand gently palming the other. 

She brings her hand around the back of his head, urging him on, when they’re interrupted by a shrill, familiar noise - a noise she’d know anywhere.  _ Her cell phone _ . 

“Who could that be?” Aaron asks, his breath warm against her skin, barely even looking up as he switches to the other breast. “Don’t answer it.” 

She glances at the name appearing on the screen. With a groan, she reaches for the phone, because it’s a call she shouldn’t ignore. “I have to answer it.” Then she shifts out of his grasp, accepting the call. “Hello?” 

“Agent Prentiss, how are you?” The voice on the other end is enough to make her cringe. 

“Who is it?” He asks quietly, most of his attention still on her breasts. He barely even looks up, Emily realizes.  _ Men. _

“Strauss,” She mouths, pushing him away from her chest.

Aaron rolls his eyes. He looks annoyed, but he’s already dragging the covers back over them both. Emily gives him a questioning look as she holds the phone between her neck and her ear. “I’m doing well, ma’am, thank you for asking.” She keeps her tone light, even though this is the  _ very _ last thing she wants to be doing. “What can I do for you?” 

“I know we haven’t talked directly, but I wanted to congratulate you both on Grace. Aaron says things are going well? Jack and Ava are adjusting also?”

“They are,” Emily says slowly, her eyes darkening when she notices Aaron inching down to the edge of the bed. “Everything has been going smoothly.” 

Aaron is suddenly, but carefully, hovering over her again, doing his best not to creak the mattress beneath him. With a smirk, he dips his head, inches her shirt up with his nose, and plants a kiss on the soft skin of her stomach. Even  _ that  _ is enough to make her jump. 

“Good. I’m glad to hear. Going from two to three can be a challenge,” Strauss says pleasantly. “I’ve been in your shoes.” 

Emily is barely paying attention at this point, because Aaron is now past her stomach, and has made his way to her hips,  _ and _ he’s working her sweatpants down with gentle hands. 

_ He has to be joking _ , she thinks, giving him a gentle kick with her foot. “ _ Stop,” _ she whispers, covering the bottom of the phone with her hand. Aaron only winks before bending again, dropping kisses along the bare skin of her upper thighs.  _ He’s not joking. He must be insane.  _

“Thank you, ma’am,” Emily attempts to make her voice match Strauss’s, because if she knows Aaron, she knows exactly where he’s taking this. “I appreciate the support. We  _ both _ do,” she adds, giving him her best death stare. 

From his place at her legs, Aaron is smirking at her response to their boss, his hands closing on her knees, and Emily tries to shimmy out of his grip, but he’s too strong, and he easily holds her in place. “You just had to answer the phone,” he whispers, and very slowly, starts to pull her legs apart. 

Emily claps her hand against her head in frustration, but also anticipation.  **“** _ Stop _ , Aaron,” she hisses, as Strauss keeps talking, but it’s no use, because he’s already pulled her down far enough that he can angle himself between her legs and push them apart the rest of the way. Glancing down, she sees each of her knees over his shoulders, his hands wrapped around her thighs, and it makes her shiver. 

“I know, Agent Prentiss. I’m sorry to have bothered you tonight, but I had a few spare moments and wanted to catch you at some point soon.”

_ You don’t know the fucking half of it,  _ Emily thinks. “It’s not a problem. What can I do for you?” 

Aaron is still laughing but now he’s teasing her too, using his hand to spread her open and letting his tongue lap against her like a metronome. 

_ Shit _ . Her hips nearly fly right off the mattress but he’s prepared for that (thanks to years of learning  _ exactly _ what makes her tick) and he pushes her right back down. She’s practically aching for him now, and he knows it. So he makes her wait for a few seconds, until she’s shifting her hips, desperately trying to get him back to her. 

“I wanted to discuss your options for when you return. Agent Hotchner has said you’re considering not returning to the BAU.” 

Aaron lowers his head again, this time his lips lock right around her clit and she covers her own mouth to suppress a moan. 

“We’ve br - briefly discussed it … ma’am.” Emily inhales, maybe a little too sharply, and she can almost see the confused expression on Strauss’s face. If she weren’t so concerned about moaning right into the phone, she probably would have laughed. 

“Agent Prentiss? Is everything alright?” Strauss sounds mildly concerned. “You sound … not well.” 

“I’m fine,” Emily squeaks, her voice starting to crack. “The baby monitor is going off.” 

“I see,” Strauss says, clearly not convinced. “The reason why I’m calling …” 

She can feel Aaron’s shoulders shaking, indicating that he’s actually laughing _ - _ clearly he thinks this entire thing is hilarious, and as he does, he continues his ministrations, pushing his tongue inside of her. Emily nearly drops the phone right out of her hand. 

“As you’re aware, Agent Prentiss, your return to the bureau will require a bit of a transition,” Strauss rattles on, “especially if you decide to change units. That needs to be arranged in advance.” 

Except this time she doesn’t answer, because Aaron is back to those long, perfect strokes of his tongue that  _ never _ fail to make her weak, and he clearly has no intention of stopping. He’s got one hand holding her leg down and the other hand holding her hips down and like this, it won’t be long. 

_She really needs to hang up the phone._ _Now._

“Ma’am, as much as I would love to give you an answer, I really haven’t given it enough thought,” Emily says, more breathlessly than she would have liked. “Aaron and I will certainly let you know as soon as we do.” She holds the phone away from her ear, her heart pounding in her chest, and she’s fairly certain Aaron doesn’t even realize she’s still on the phone in the first place. She presses her foot into his ribcage, urging him on with a push of her hips. 

“That’s fine, Agent Prentiss. Certainly. And please, do get some rest. You sound tired. Take care of yourself.” 

“I will. Good night, ma’am.”

Emily doesn’t even bother to hear her response - she ends the call, throwing the phone to the floor. “I’m going to  _ kill _ you,” she rasps, “after you get me off.” 

“Sounds like a deal, sweetheart,” Aaron chuckles against her leg, ready to do just that. And he does. He dips down once more, his mouth working in perfect tandem with the two fingers he presses into her, and mere moments later, her body arches almost completely off the mattress, her back bending in a nearly painful curve. 

“You’re the fucking worst, you know,” Emily snaps once he’s settled next to her and she can breathe normally. “That could have gone terribly, you know. How am I supposed to look Strauss in the eye ever again?” 

“You loved it,” Aaron says, a shit-eating grin on his face. Don’t even try to lie.” He strokes her arm and kisses her cheek. “Plus, you were  _ very _ convincing.” He tucks an arm underneath of her, bringing her against him for a kiss. 

“You know what I love even more?” She lifts on an elbow, pushing him onto his back, and this time she’s the one wearing the smirk. 

“Payback.” And with that, she kisses her way down his chest, her head disappearing beneath the sheets. 

_ A Pasta Party Mishap  _

Dave insists on having them all over for dinner.

They tease him, poking light fun at how seriously he takes Italian cuisine and wine pairings, but in all honesty, no one is complaining. It’s a  _ rare _ occasion for them all to be together like this, and it’s long overdue. “Just yourselves,” he assures them with a smile when they ask what they can bring. “I’ll take care of the rest.” 

It’s light, fun, and  _ exactly _ what they all need to take their minds off some of the pretty dark cases they’ve had in the last couple of weeks. Dave does all the preparation, manning the stove with an intensity they all secretly admire (none of them can cook even remotely as well as he can) and they all sit around his opulent kitchen with wine glasses in hand that never fully empty. He brings out the good stuff from his extravagant wine cellar - the Montepulciano and the Pinot, and they’re all more than happy to imbibe.

Even before dinner is served, Emily’s feeling the effects of the wine, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Aaron is too. The good news is, so is everyone else, minus Dave, who is completely immersed in his task of chopping, slicing, and whatever else he’s doing. Emily watches in awe, transfixed at the ease in which he navigates a kitchen. It’s a talent she’s never quite possessed.

A game of chess breaks out between Morgan and Reid in the living room with Aaron lingering in the kitchen, and the night almost ends abruptly when Dave realizes he has no pancetta. 

“ _ You _ forgot pancetta?” Garcia asks, her eyes opening with disbelief, as Dave rolls his own in frustration. “To make pasta carbonara?  _ You?  _ Mr. David Rossi of all people forgot  _ pancetta?  _ For your most famous recipe? _ ”  _ But it’s in jest, as she and JJ agree to go get some, taking his specific, detailed directions of exactly just what to get in stride. A little while after they’ve left, Emily finds herself in one of the side rooms - Dave’s study, clearly - admiring the artwork and myriad of expensive books, knick-knacks, and little trinkets that adorn the shelves. 

“I was wondering where you ran off to.” Aaron is behind her a short time later, his tone low and eyes dark. Emily doesn’t have to see his face to know what’s going through his mind. She’s been thinking about it all night, too.

“You left Dave in the kitchen? By himself?” Emily asks, wine glass in hand. She doesn’t turn around, but she  _ does  _ push her hips into him when he comes up behind her, snaking a hand around her waist, coming to rest on her stomach.

“I think he needed some space,” Aaron quips. “You know how seriously he takes his all of this.” 

“Indeed he does,” Emily agrees, letting her head fall back on his shoulder. “Also, This is some seriously good wine, Aaron.” 

“I know,” he says smoothly into her ear. “Isn’t that your third glass?” 

“Something like that.” She knows she’s not imagining things when he presses against her back even more, and a shiver runs down her spine. “I haven’t been keeping track.” 

“I thought you were driving us home,” he jokes softly, inching his hand underneath her shirt and over the soft, smooth skin of her stomach. “Looks like that’s not happening.” 

“In your dreams.” Emily sighs, enjoying the gentle caress of his hand, and the fact that he’s started to leave kisses along the back of her ear. “What are you doing?” She murmurs, long and low. “You do know we’re in Rossi’s  _ house _ , right?” 

“I’m well aware.” Aaron reaches for her wine glass, setting it on a nearby bookshelf, and then turns her around to press her back against the wall. “But he’s cooking, and everyone else is … busy at the moment.” 

Emily rises on her tiptoes to leave a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re crazy, Aaron.” It’s a  _ bad _ idea, but a  _ good _ one at the same time, and she already feels her body start to heat up under his stare. 

“Maybe, but don’t tell me you aren’t thinking of the same thing.” And he kisses her back, with teeth and tongue, sliding his hands into her hair, and Emily  _ knows _ this isn’t going to end well. For either of them. There’s no door to the study, just an open wall, and anyone rounding the corner could walk in.

“You’re  _ such _ a bad influence,” she whispers in his ear, her hands sliding to his belt as they attempt to conceal themselves behind the curtains in the window. As if she’d have it any other way.

“Tell me about it.” 

…

The hardwood floors in Rossi’s study are unforgiving under her knees, but she doesn’t care. 

Aaron’s left hand is alternating between her hair and her shoulder, his right hand clenched around the bookshelf for support as his knees start to buckle with effort. Emily’s been working him over for the last ten minutes, her eyes locked on his as she brings him into her mouth yet once more and flicking her tongue over him with  _ perfect _ precision. She’s doing that  _ thing _ he loves, using her hand and mouth simultaneously, and it’s having the  _ exact _ effect she intended. So, he wraps his hand around the back of her neck and urges her on. Only this time, she relaxes her throat and lets her mouth move all the way down to the base of him.

“ _ Fuck,” _ Aaron tightens his hold on her shoulder, his vision starting to blur as her hand reaches around to the back of his thigh, only bringing him closer to her, making her eyes water when he fucks her mouth. “Emily,” he groans, knowing he won’t make it much longer. “My God.” 

“Mmm?” The vibration is all he needs, and his last thrust nearly hits the back of her throat once more before it’s all over and he’s spilling into her, his legs starting to bow.  _ Fuck _ , he thinks as he glances down, watching Emily bring him out of her mouth with a satisfied smirk on her lips. 

_ “Jesus.”  _ He’s trying to regain his composure, tugging at his pants as Emily wipes her mouth coyly, rising to her feet, looking very pleased with herself. “You’re amazing.” He helps her stand, letting her rest against him for a few moments, because of her aching knees. “You also have makeup under your eyes.” He swipes at the skin under her eyes with his thumb, doing his best to dab away the smudged black mascara that’s given her a slight resemblance to a racoon. “Might want to take care of that.” 

“You should probably fix your pants,” Emily says right back, gesturing to his undone belt. “It’d look pretty bad if someone -” 

They’re suddenly interrupted by the telltale swish of the front door opening just to the right and around the corner, a jingle of car keys, and the rustle of a paper bag, indicating that Garcia and JJ have returned with Dave’s coveted items. “We’re back!” 

_ Shit _ . Emily pulls away from him as if she’d been burned, reaching for her wine glass on the shelf, doing her best to make it look like whatever’s going on between them is completely innocent.  _ If only they knew _ . 

From where she’s standing, she can see Rossi coming from the kitchen, smiling gratefully as JJ passes over the bag full of what he needs to finish their dinner. “Come get refills. I just opened a new bottle. And someone find Emily and Hotch, please.” 

“I haven’t seen them in a while,” Morgan calls from the study, and Aaron can’t help but suppress a bout of laughter. “I don’t know where they wandered off to.” 

_ That was close _ . They exchange a knowing glance, and a slight wink. 

_ If only they knew. _

What they don’t know is, everyone already does.

_ His Office _

“I still don’t think you should go to Philadelphia,” Aaron says evenly, neatening the files on his desk. “We’ve been over this already today.”  _ And the day before, but who's counting? _ He checks the clock on the wall, which reads 6:30 PM. Not too late, but later than he’d rather be here, for sure. 

Everyone else has already gone home, except the two of them of course.

“I’m  _ pregnant _ , Aaron. Not incapacitated.” She rolls her eyes, propping her feet up on the small table in his office. “Plus, I’m going to man a desk anyway. You already took me out of the field.” Emily grumbles. 

“You’re right. You don’t belong in the field right now,” he says matter of factly, getting up from behind his desk to come sit next to her on the couch, flipping the lights off so the small space is now dim. “You’re  _ pregnant. _ ” He matches her intonation from just moments before, eliciting a small grin from her.

“It’s still the first trimester.” Emily lifts her shirt up, revealing her still relatively flat stomach, save for the slightest little bump. “It looks bigger than it did this morning.” She studies it carefully, her hand dipping below the waistband of her pants. 

“I know, but you heard the doctor. The morning sickness isn’t going away anytime soon.” He reaches for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. She’d spent the better part of the morning bent over the toilet in the BAU, with Garcia bringing her ginger-ale, ignoring the worried looks of Reid and Rossi. Even after a few weeks of this, they  _ still _ haven’t gotten used to seeing their colleague like that. It’s equal parts endearing and annoying. “You really want to deal with that on a trip?” 

She shrugs. “It’s not as bad in the afternoon. Plus, I love Philadelphia - Boathouse Row, the Rocky Statue, Rittenhouse Square. And you do remember what happened on the steps of the art museum, don’t you?” She closes her eyes at the memory, one of her favorites. 

Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he brings her closer and brushes his lips against her temple. “How could I forget?” 

“I’d  _ hope _ you wouldn’t forget our first kiss,” she reminds him teasingly, snuggling into his side. 

“It’s also for  _ work _ ,” he reminds her, his tone playful but gentle as he kisses her again. “It’s a case. We’re not going to be playing tourist.” 

She rolls her eyes again, deep down knowing he  _ might _ just have a point. The morning sickness has been horrific, despite the second wind she gets every afternoon once it passes. And riding a desk with the rest of the Philadelphia PD while the rest of them are out canvassing and interviewing doesn’t sound particularly appealing. There’s a reason she’s a profiler, not a media liaison. She considers it for another moment before nodding in agreement. “Fine. You’re right. I’ll sit this one out.” 

“Good,” he says, giving her a quick kiss before standing. “Now can we get out of here?” 

“Not so fast.” Emily pulls him back down, quickly straddling his lap. She rocks her hips tauntingly, letting him know exactly what she wants, that he’s not off the hook this easily. Not just yet. “I have an idea.” 

“What’s that?” He asks, even though he doesn’t need an answer. His hands slide to her back, slipping beneath the loose sweater she’s wearing. 

“I think you know.” She pushes his hands away and pulls the sweater off her head in one smooth motion. “We’ve done it before.” 

Aaron knows  _ exactly  _ what she means, based on the way his eyes brighten with anticipation **.** His hands are automatically on her chest, then grappling around her back for the clasp of her bra. “You locked the door?” 

“I might have,” Emily drawls, leaning forward to give him better access to the clasp, while simultaneously working his belt buckle with deft fingers. “No, I  _ definitely _ did.” 

“So you planned this?” He gets it open and pushes it up, freeing her to his gaze. 

“Possibly.” Her head tips back when his thumbs brush her nipples, momentarily distracted from her task of undoing his pants. “Thought it might be a good way to say goodbye before you leave me for a few days.” 

“Emily,” he begins, but all logic is quickly forgotten when she hovers over him, pressing her lips against his. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, looping an arm around her waist. She’s gotten his pants completely undone and down just far enough, and her hand slips down and closes around him, giving a well-timed squeeze. He flexes in her hand and groans at the contact, his hand tightening around her waist. 

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” She smiles into the kiss, slipping her tongue past his teeth. “Now fuck me.” She starts working the buttons of his shirt, pulling the sides open and dragging her fingers over his chest. 

Aaron doesn’t have to be told twice. He gets her pants down just past her hips and she pushes them off the rest of the way, leaving them in a heap on the floor. “Not too loud,” he warns her before he slides a hand between her legs. “The walls are thin.” 

“No one’s here,” she mews as his thumb presses against her and his fingers push into her, the perfect combination that, if he has just the right amount of pressure and speed, will send her right over the edge in minutes. 

“Still,” he warns, flicking and stroking. Her body bends over him, and it takes more effort to remain upright than she’d anticipated. Not to mention, he’s only  _ just _ getting started. “I’d rather not find out.” 

Emily smirks, shifting her hips into his hand, pushing herself toward the release she’s been craving all day. “Don’t worry.” She leans down, wrapping her hand around him once again, and it has the desired effect. He’s groaning, barely able to concentrate on his own task, and Emily moves her hips faster against his hand. 

“Em, sweetheart.” He pulls his hand away, smoothing her hair from her face, lining himself up with her until a firm push of his hips and a rock of hers leaves him buried inside of her. He shifts, she does too, fully seated, the fullness of him inside of her never enough. 

“I love you,” she breathes into his ear, bringing her hands around the back of his head. “Now fuck me,” she says again. 

The rhythm he sets isn’t forgiving, it’s exactly the opposite, but it’s what she needs and she meets him every time he drives back in, her body bowing with effort.  _ It has to be quick _ , he rationalizes in his own mind.  _ We can’t stay in here forever _ . His hands are on her hips, keeping her steady to prevent her from falling, with enough force she’ll most likely wear those bruises until he gets home again. 

He reaches down to stroke her, the precision of his thumb almost  _ too _ much, her sharp inhale the sign he’s getting close. He’s about to do it again when a knock at the door almost takes the air right out of his lungs, and hers too. 

“Aaron?” 

_ Fuck. It’s Dave. What the fuck is he doing here this late? Dave never stays this late.  _

“You locked the door, right?” His whisper is almost silent, and Emily nods with wide, glazed, unfocused eyes.  _ She’s so close _ , he thinks, watching her bite her lip with concentration as her muscles flutter around him, her body shaking with effort. She’s doing everything she can to relieve the pressure that’s been building inside of her, while simultaneously holding it off. He shakes his head, pressing his index finger to her lips.  _ Don’t you dare _ . 

“Aaron, I have that case report from Houston. You said you wanted it before I left today? The one that’s at least two weeks late?” Dave sounds curious, like he somehow  _ knows _ they’re both in there, but too tactful to call them out on it. 

“I’m doing a conference with Jack’s teacher, Dave,” he calls out the first thing that comes to mind, his voice strained, praying it sounds convincing. “I’ll come get it in the morning.” 

It  _ almost  _ does, except for the poorly timed moan that escapes from Emily’s throat, and she quickly clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle the one that immediately follows. 

_ Conference, my ass. Like a couple of amateurs,  _ Dave thinks, chuckling as he makes his way right back down the stairs. With a satisfied, amused grin, he strides right out of the BAU. 

“ _ Aaron _ ,” Emily keens when they hear the door rattle shut. “Aaron, I need -” 

“Okay, sweetheart. Now. God, I love you,” he murmurs into her ear as her body tenses, her legs starting to shake against his. He watches her fall apart, wanting to memorize the way she looks when she  _ finally _ lets go, every muscle in her body tensing. A few moments later, he shudders, spilling into her and pulling her against him so tightly he can feel her beating heart against his chest. 

She’s covered with his suit jacket a few minutes later, still completely naked underneath, when he reaches for her hand, leaning over to kiss her as she recovers. “I’d say we’re pretty good at this clandestine office thing,” he jokes, leaving a line of kisses on her jaw. 

“We might need a little practice,” she retorts, giving him a playful smack. “That was a little too close for my liking.” 

“Round two when I get back?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

_ The Kids _

It’s the coffee that wakes her up. It always does. 

It’s like a tease, willing her to open her eyes even though they’re still heavy with sleep. It’s Saturday - at least she thinks it’s Saturday - judging by the fact the sun has already risen and is starting to stream into their large bedroom windows, and there’s not an alarm clock to be heard.  _ No alarm clocks on Saturdays _ . She cracks an eye to see her favorite mug on the nightstand, steam rising from the top. 

No doubt she knows  _ just _ how that got there. It’s another one of their routines - he brings her fresh coffee every Saturday morning, and it’s what slowly lures her out of sleep. Turning her head slowly, not revealing the fact she  _ is _ in fact awake, she spies Aaron in bed next to her, reading the newspaper perched on his chest and sipping from his own mug. The scent of coffee beans is heavy in the air; no doubt he used the extra strong blend. 

He feels her shift, and glances over to her, smiling when he sees she’s awake, or at least somewhat. The newspaper is tossed to the side. “Good morning.” He leans over to kiss her, the light stubble on his face scratching against her cheek. 

“What time is it?” Emily mumbles, pulling the covers over her head in mock annoyance. “It’s too early.”

“Early? Sweetheart, it’s close to 8.” Aaron is gently pulling the covers away from her twisted form. “If we were at work - “ 

“We’re  _ not _ at work,” Emily groans, swatting him away with her hand. “Let me sleep, Aaron.” 

“Maybe not, but we  _ do _ have three kids who are going to need our attention soon.” Ever persistent in his attempts, Aaron has worked the blankets down to Emily’s waist, and is pulling her to him, her sleep-hazed body pliant in his arms. “They’re even more demanding than I am.” 

“What were we thinking when we decided to have them?” Emily quips, curling an arm around his neck lazily.  _ She secretly loves their mornings before the kids are awake, and it’s just the two of them, in their own little world _ . “Someone always needs something,” she adds, pressing her body into his as she slowly starts to wake up, thanks to his gentle touches. _ It’s a stark difference from last night _ , she observes, as his hand drifts up her back and smooths over her ribcage.  _ Last night had been the exact opposite.  _ “They want to go to the -”

“Shhh,” Aaron says lovingly, pushing Emily onto her back in the middle of their large mattress. “Technically, our day hasn’t started yet.” He’s winking at her, making his intentions abundantly clear as he pushes her shirt - one of his, actually - up to her waist, giving him easy access. “Let’s enjoy the last few minutes of solitude.” He slides one hand up to pinch her nipple, and he smiles at the way her breath stutters in her throat. “God, Emily, I love you.” 

“You love fucking me, too.” 

“What I  _ love _ ,” he says, peppering her face with kisses, “is thinking of all the ways I can make you come.” And he pulls back, looking her in the eyes for a moment before his lips meet hers in a long, low kiss, his hand dipping down between her legs for a moment, and her head to fall back into the pillows, as his fingers press up and into her. “In fact, I’m thinking of it right now.” 

With a sigh, Emily smiles against his lips, wrapping her legs around his waist to urge him on. “You’re such a tease.” 

“If you think I’m teasing you,” he tells her, sounding intensely serious. “Just wait.” 

She shivers, because she’s done this with him enough times to know he means every word of what he’s saying. Aaron bunches the shirt up even higher before he finally tugs it off and over head. “You always have to wear my shirts, don’t you?” 

“Because you’re always taking mine off.” Her tone is snarky but she doesn’t actually mean it, and she sighs again, as he shifts them both, lifting her up with impressive dexterity only to ease her right back down into the pillows. 

“You look better without them on, anyway.” Aaron is still kissing her, lazily taking his time building her up with firm and deft, yet  _ slow _ strokes, almost impossibly slow, and she’s getting  _ impatient,  _ shifting her hips back and forth. He pulls his hand back and she whimpers as if on cue, and luckily his mouth is on hers because it’s  _ louder _ than either of them anticipated. 

_ “ _ What are you doing _?”  _ She whines as rears back, lifting her hips questioningly. “Why did you stop?”

“Watching you,” he says, his body spread out over hers as he hovers over her, his dark eyes taking in the flush of her skin, her hair fanned out on the pillow like a sheet, her mouth slightly open and eyes fluttering open and closed. “You’re perfect,” he whispers to her. “So perfect.” It’s all she needs to rise up just a few inches and kiss him again. 

There’s a sudden sound coming from the other room - the telltale thump of someone getting out of bed, a few steps, the creak of a door and then another one opening. It has all of their attention now. 

“Wait for it,” Aaron says, pausing and frozen above her, as Emily pushes her hands into his chest. 

“ _ Ava _ !” Jack’s muffled voice, full of annoyance, can be heard even through their closed door, and Aaron rolls his eyes. “ _ Ava, stop!”  _

There’s a playful giggle, another complaint from Jack, and then a wail. 

“Yup, there it is.” He can’t help but chuckle at the fact that their two older children are already bickering. “It’s not even nine AM. You’d think we’d get a break.” He kisses Emily’s neck, moving her hair off her shoulder to get better access.

“Give it five minutes,” Emily says knowingly with a smile, cupping her hands around Aaron’s shoulders. “Guarantee someone will be in here.” 

“I’ll make you a deal,” he says, still hovering over her. “If I make you come before that, you have to solve this one **.** If not, you’re off the hook **.”**

“That’s not fair,” Emily whines. “You know I’m going to lose, right?” 

“I know,” Aaron says with a grin. “But that’s why it’s fun for me” 

She swats him on the back, then presses her nails into his upper back. “Put your money where your mouth is, you smartass.” 

“There are so many places I want to put my mouth,” he says with an impish wink. “But right now, I want to do this.” His hand is back between her legs again, her thighs fall open as the palm of his hand hits right against her clit with the perfect pressure. And even though the bickering in the other room is getting louder, more threatening, he brings her legs up to bend at the knees, and presses the same two fingers into her once again. Emily gasps, grabbing at his wrist for leverage but he’s too quick, and it only encourages him more until he reaches  _ that _ spot inside of her. He wants to watch her fall apart - every second of it. 

“Aaron,” she pants, watching him with her hooded darkened eyes. “You’re such a - “ 

He’s anticipating it, and before she can finish her sentence he twists his hand until she practically writhes against him. It happens so fast it knocks the air right out of her as her body nearly bends in half with effort. “ _ Emily. _ ” He drags her name out, the three syllables blending together, as he strokes her through the last few moments of her climax. “Good morning,” he murmurs, gently biting down on her ear as she flops back against the pillows, her hand wrapped around his arm in a vice-like grip. 

“I love you,” Emily breathes, batting her eyelashes as Aaron settles beside her, looking proud of himself. “So much.” 

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He’s bringing the covers back up over her hips, tucking her back into their bed but she shakes her head. 

“What about you?” She asks him, reaching down to stroke him with a smooth, practiced hand. He tenses beneath her, and she smiles.  _ A taste of your own medicine, Aaron _ . 

“Mommy?” There’s a voice at the door that can only be Ava, and she sounds as if she’s about to have a tantrum. “Mommy, Jack -” 

“Ava! No I didn’t! Jack’s voice tells them he’s right there too .

_ Shit _ . 

They both jump - in the last few minutes, they’ve completely forgotten about the meltdown brewing between their children just outside their bedroom door. 

“Mommy!” Ava’s little voice is louder now, demanding almost, and Emily knows it well enough to hear the fact that it sounds like tears are about to fall. She glances between the door and Aaron, who is clearly in need of some relief himself.

“Don’t worry about me,” Aaron groans, jerking his head in the direction of the door, looking very uncomfortable with his current situation. “That’s all you.” 

“Just a minute!” Emily calls; her voice still has a slight tremor as she reluctantly gets out of bed, reaching for the robe on the chair. 

_ “Mommy!”  _ Ava’s insistent pounding has no doubt woken Grace by now too. 

Now that she’s half dressed, Emily is almost out the door. As she slips over the threshold, she turns to Aaron, a glimmer in her eyes. “I’ll make it up to you later.” 

_ The Ambassador’s House _

“We’re not having sex in your mother’s house.” 

“Not with that negativity. Also, keep your voice down.” A quick turn of her head confirms the fact that the kids are completely oblivious to the conversation in the front seat. A pair of headphones are firmly placed over Jack’s head, there’s a Nintendo switch in his hands. He couldn’t be pulled away if someone dragged him. Ava is sound asleep in her carseat, her head turned to the side, a ragged stuffed hippo under her arm. “Why are you such a buzzkill today?” Emily smooths her hands over her skirt, briefly glancing out the window as Aaron skillfully changes lanes through the mounting traffic. “I know we’re spending the day with my mother but come on, it’s not  _ that _ bad.” 

“Emily,” Aaron begins patiently, with a touch of amusement in his voice, a small smile on his lips. “Sweetheart, have you...have you heard yourself? It’s not like you’re very quiet” 

“I can be quiet,” she attempts, a slight blush rising to her cheeks. “You underestimate me.” 

“No, I  _ know _ you.” He makes an exit off the highway towards Bethesda. “You’ve never been quiet.” He takes a hand off the wheel, squeezes her knee. “Not that I’m complaining, but I’m just saying, your mother’s house might not be the best place to test your theory.” 

“I still say we try,” she says stubbornly.

“Are you out of your mind?” He glances at her with a roll of his eyes, even if he is slightly intrigued. “Just when are we going to make that happen? With two kids  _ and  _ Elizabeth hanging around the whole time?” 

“I’m sure we’ll find a way,” Emily says with a smug smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to get creative.” 

“There’s a fine line between creativity and stupidity, sweetheart.” Aaron reaches for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “I love you dearly, but … we might have to nix this one.” 

“Killjoy,” Emily grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest as he turns into her mother’s driveway. 

…

She’s putting an incredibly fussy, cranky Ava down for a nap, a few hours later, when she hears the swish of the door. She’s surprised to find Aaron slipping through the crack, shutting it behind him. Last she’d seen him, he’d been completely preoccupied with fixing Elizabeth’s wifi router as her mother kept a watchful eye over his shoulder, hanging on his every word.  _ Better him than me,  _ she’d thought as she disappeared up the stairs with Ava in tow. 

“Did she go down?” 

“Finally, yes. She never sleeps well here.” Emily sighs. “Should be a great evening.” 

“It’ll be okay,” Aaron tells her, not looking the slightest bit concerned. He’s actually grinning, which only adds to her irritance. “You worry too much.” 

“Okay, so when she doesn’t sleep tonight, you can stay up with her.” Emily can’t help but snap. “I knew this was a -” 

“Come with me,” Aaron says, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her away from the crib. “Just for a minute.” He leads her through a second door, the one that leads to the adjoined bedroom typically reserved for whenever they stay over, which isn’t often. 

“What are you doing?” Emily asks with a sigh. “I need to get back -” She’s cut off with a kiss, one that signifies  _ exactly _ what he plans on doing. 

“Testing your theory,” he says coyly, his hands disappearing underneath her skirt as he bends to kiss her. 

…

Exactly eight minutes later, she’s perched on the large dresser, her back against the mirror, her bare legs over his shoulders. Aaron hadn’t even bothered to take her skirt off - it’s bunched around her waist, but her stockings are crumpled in his pocket, possibly salvageable, but her guess is no, based on how forcefully he’d ripped them off about seven minutes before. 

There’s not much she can focus on besides the fact that he’s dangerously close to getting her off for a second time in less than six minutes.  _ That has to be a record _ , she thinks, digging her fingers into his hair at the sudden change of pressure of his mouth. “Oh my God,” she keens, her breaths coming in pants as he continues, pushing her closer again. She’d bit her own lip nearly to blood the first time, determined  _ not _ to make the sound he’s so intensely focused on pulling from her.

“Shhh,” he warns, not for the first time, briefly glancing up at her with a cocky grin on his face. “I can stop, you know.” As if to tease, he drags his tongue over her in one long, languid stroke from bottom to top that nearly does her in. 

“Don’t you dare,” she hisses, digging her heels into his back. “I’m so -” 

“I know you’re close,” he murmurs darkly against her inner thigh. “But keeping you on the edge like this is fun. I kind of like it.” Aaron replaces his lips with his finger, first one and then two, dipping inside of her all the way. Her head falls back again on its own accord; another moan falls from her lips. “Plus, eventually you’re not going to be able to control yourself.” 

“You’re -  _ oh,” _ Emily practically convulses right there on the dresser, her hips lifting up against his hand. “ _ Aaron, please.”  _

Aaron rises to his feet, pulls his hand away, and melds his lips to hers to silence the steady stream of noises coming from her. He buries his hands in her hair, brings her as close to him as he can, their bodies firmly pressed together. 

“Emily?” A voice comes from outside the door, which she can’t remember if they even locked, and her heart drops to her feet. 

_ Fuck. It’s her mother.  _

“Emily, have you seen Aaron? Jack is looking for him. Something about his nintendo battery? You know I’m not good with these things, and he can’t find his charger. He says it’s in Aaron’s pocket.” 

As if on cue, Aaron reaches down between her legs, flicks his thumb, and Emily’s head rolls back, her eyes widening and her body shuddering. She gives Aaron an incredulous stare.  _ He has to be kidding. _

“Answer her,” he whispers in her ear, soft enough that only she can decipher it. To prove his point, he applies a little bit more pressure and her hips jerk against his. 

“Emily?” Her mother’s voice is only slightly impatient. “What are you doing in there? Have you seen Aaron anywhere?” 

Aaron cups his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her head down so her eyes meet his, dark and full of lust. “Make it convincing,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to hers. “Or else I stop.” 

“I’m … I’m changing my clothes,” she squeaks between a few small, breathy pants, wondering if it even sounds convincing at all. “Had a little mishap feeding Ava.” 

“That’s better, sweetheart,” he croons in her ear, as if pleased with her response, and before Emily can even process what comes next, Aaron pushes into her swiftly and fully, pressing his hand to her mouth to conceal the moan that comes seconds later. 

“Is everything alright? Do you need extra sheets? Do you need to do laundry?” 

Aaron nods, moving his hand down to cup her chin, pressing kisses all along her face as Emily flexes around him. “You feel  _ so  _ good, you know.” 

“No, Mother,” Emily manages, a little louder this time, but it’s getting harder to remain coherent, because Aaron has started to rock his hips and she’s already impossibly distracted. “I’m fine. But if you see Aaron, can you tell him I’m looking for him too?” She can barely concentrate on anything at this point except for the fact that the only reason she’s still upright is because of Aaron holding her up. 

“Sure, dear,” her mother says through the door. “Maybe he’s in the family room. I’ll look for him. And I’ll try to help Jack with his nintendo in the meantime.” The tap of shoes on the ground, followed by the squeak of the stairs, tells her the coast is clear for the time being, and she sighs in relief, almost collapsing on Aaron’s shoulder. 

In front of her, Aaron is laughing, with or at her she isn’t completely sure. His shoulders are shaking, his hair is falling into his face. Emily slaps him good naturedly, and he only increases the intensity of his movements. “You’re so convincing, sweetheart.” 

“You’re no help,” Emily pants as he pushes her legs further apart to change the angle, the depth of his thrusts. “Jesus Christ, Aaron.” 

“Good?” He pulls away a little, to watch her as she starts to lose control, his own eyes darkening with lust. “God, you’re beautiful, you know that, right?” He can barely hear her own response, because everything around him is starting to blur.

“Mmmhm.” She’s determined to beat him at his own game, the one he’s on the edge of winning, because if he keeps this up, she’s going to scream. “I’m still pissed at you, you know.  _ She could have walked in. _ ” 

“Well, get over it, because I’m the one about to make you come in the next thirty seconds.” He drives into her once, then once more, fully and perfectly, grinning in satisfaction as Emily’s legs wrap around his waist, her thighs shaking on his hips. Her eyes flutter closed, he brings a hand up to caress her face as she arches up and into him, the intensity of her orgasm all consuming. His comes only moments later as he practically lifts her up off the dresser, spilling into her with one last stroke. 

He’s still holding her to him when he realizes she never made a sound the whole time. 

“I’m impressed,” he murmurs, lightly caressing her back as her breathing returns to normal. 

“Don’t get used to it,” Emily jokes, giving him a gentle slap. “

“It was your idea, sweetheart.” Aaron winks as he reaches for his belt, then digs into his pocket and tosses her the stockings she’d been wearing - the ones he’d ripped off. “Thought you might want these back.” 

“First I need to get off this dresser, Aaron. And thanks to you, I’m not sure if my legs work.” She shivers, her legs still spread apart and her skirt up at her waist. He can’t help but laugh, and gently brings her down to her feet, then pulls her skirt down, kissing her forehead as he straightens the rest of her wrinkled clothes. 

“Yeah, I can’t wear these anymore.” Emily says, holding the torn stockings in her hands. “You do know my mother is going to notice, right? And she’s going to know immediately what was happening here.” 

He just laughs, pulling Jack’s nintendo charger from the other pocket with his other hand, and with a wink, then a smirk, turns on his heel, and disappears right out of the room. 

_ And one time they did, just for good measure  _

“Sir, I have the background check you asked for - Oh my God!” Penelope’s scream is loud enough to be heard throughout the entire bullpen, and the squeak that comes after is even louder. He’d be shocked if they didn’t send someone upstairs, just to check that everyone was still  _ alive _ after that. 

_“Really Garcia_?” Aaron snaps, using his body to cover Emily’s, sprawled out on the couch, to avoid giving Garcia a free show in the middle of his office. With one hand, scrambles for his belt, which is undone, along with the top button of his pants. 

“Sir, _Emily,_ ” Penelope says, covering her chest with one hand, shielding her eyes with the background check folder in a dramatic display of surprise, her voice hushed. “I know I should have knocked, but ...In case you  _ forgot _ , this is a secure government building, and I’m pretty sure what you’re doing is  _ against _ every single policy in the book.” Peering from behind the makeshift shield in her hand, she gives them a disapproving glare.

"We know." Emily glances up at Garcia from underneath Aaron, her cheeks flushing pink, both from exertion and embarrassment. As he fumbles around for his suit jacket to cover her, she reaches for her sweater, which is in a ball underneath of her head - he’d had shoved it there in his haste to get her bra off, which is most likely halfway across the room by now. Luckily he hadn’t gotten too far with her pants - those are at least still half buttoned.

“Garcia, are you just going to stand there all day?” Aaron can’t hide the frustration or the awkwardness plaguing his voice, because he’s still half bent over Emily’s body, his own shirt undone. "Or could we have a moment, please?" He's fairly certain he's never been more uncomfortable in his life, for a few reasons.

“Certainly not, Sir. I am on my way out this very second.” Penelope looks mortified. “I’m just … going to … leave this background check on your desk, Sir. I really don’t want to have to come back and make eye contact with either one of you for at least a month.” She gingerly tiptoes past them, making a show of pointedly turning away, dropping the folder on Aaron’s desk. “I’m just going to pretend like this never happened.” With her back to them both, she makes a quick dash for the door, hand on the knob. 

“Garcia?” 

She freezes at the door. “Yes, Sir?”

“Garcia, I really don’t want to have to ask you this but please -” Aaron’s voice stops her in her tracks, but she doesn’t turn around. The brief moment of semi-privacy has given him a few quick seconds to cover Emily  _ and  _ button his own shirt, and begin finding the rest of their clothes.

“Oh, Sir, I promise, I’m never going to mention this to another living soul. You have my word.” 

“Thanks,” Aaron mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “We … appreciate it.” 

“Of course, Sir, Emily. But a word of advice,” she says, briefly turning around to find them both fully clothed again, tails between their legs in the middle of his office, wearing sheepish expressions. “Maybe _lock the door_ next time. Just a thought.” 

And then she books it out the door, rounding the corner to JJ's office, because a certain media liaison just lost a bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 Next up: 5 times they scared the hell out of one another.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, almost two months ago I told myself I would update this alongside WSNE simultaneously, and that lasted a hot minute before life got in the way and I could barely manage writing one story let alone two, so … this little thing got woefully neglected. BUT, as WSNE is coming to an end (ironic given the title, and I’m refusing to let go just yet) I figured I would distract myself with a few of these before grinding out those last two(ish) chapters. Another attempt of brevity, another chance for these two to be (almost) hopelessly in love, because there’s no other logical explanation for all the subtle little hints the writers threw at us for years and never materialized upon, right? 

**5 Times They Scared The Shit Out Of One Another**

_ A Close Call _

“Where the hell is the Jello?” Emily grumbles to herself as she scans the aisle, rubbing her arms for warmth. Of course she has no jacket - they’re in Orlando in the middle of July, after all - a jacket would be an added burden, just one more thing to carry. Besides, it’s been oppressively humid since their arrival in Florida two days ago. And while the cold section of the massive grocery store (the third one she’s visited in a two mile radius) feels like the subarctic at this hour, she’s on a mission. A mission she’s taking very seriously, and has yet to be successful.

A late afternoon thunderstorm erupted just a few hours before, the skies unleashing a relentless, downpouring rain punctuated by perfectly timed bouts of thunder and lightning as they scoured Central Florida for a serial rapist abducting women from parking lots at dusk. They’d split up, she’d agreed to go with Morgan to talk to the Medical Examiner  _ again _ while Aaron headed back to the Orlando Police Department to deal with the mounting tension from the media. 

The storm only gets worse on the way back. Visibility is awful, the roads slick, and yet cars still fly down the highway recklessly, because it’s Florida, and afternoon thunderstorms in July are all but a given. From her place in the passenger seat, she only half listens as Morgan gives a rundown of their unsuccessful afternoon through speakerphone **,** rolling her eyes at the mounting traffic as he brakes at an intersection. 

Emily is about to crank the air conditioning - the humidity is goddamn  _ awful  _ and with the storm it’s even worse - when what she hears through Morgan’s phone sends a chill of fear down her spine, her heart sinking into her stomach _.  _ The sickening scrape and drag of metal against metal, the ear piercing sound of breaking glass and her stomach clenches when she realizes what  _ just _ happened on the other end of the call.  _ No. _

“ _ Hotch!”  _ Is what she hears Morgan yell into the phone before it cuts out, and Emily isn’t sure she’s ever seen him look more concerned than he does in that very moment. But she can’t exactly breathe either, and they all but race to the closest hospital.

…

_ Agent Hotchner got lucky _ , is what the Orlando emergency room doctor tells them just outside Aaron’s room after they’ve arrived, having flashed their credentials at the first nurse they saw.  _ We’ll fix him right up, but he should stay the night for observation due to the concussion _ . Even with the good news, Emily’s throat tightens unexplainably, because  _ whatever _ it is she and Aaron are doing -  _ what they’ve been doing for months now behind closed doors - _ they probably shouldn’t admit to here, and it’s been hard enough keeping herself together in front of Morgan.

His injuries are fairly consistent with that of a car accident. Some whiplash, a nasty gash on his arm that required over twenty stitches, and a pretty angry looking burn from the seatbelt against his neck. Worst of all is the concussion from his head hitting the window upon impact. Emily isn’t sure what she expects to find when she slips into his room a little while later after things have settled down. The relief she feels is almost matched by the panic from before, and her face tells a similar story, even as she tries to remind herself it could have been worse.

“I’m fine,” Aaron says from his position in the uncomfortable bed with the flimsy pillow behind his head, sitting up stiffly as she nears closer. “I promise. Don’t worry about me.” But he moves just slow enough to tell her he’s sore and tired, as she expected, and even a little out of it. He’s not exactly critically injured, but he’s definitely  _ not _ fine, either.

“Can I get you anything?” 

“No, I’m okay.” Aaron grunts as his hand brushes against her cheek, the knuckles rough against her skin, and she spots a few scrapes on his fingers that weren’t there earlier that morning. It seems like a lifetime ago by now, when he’d caressed her back with his knuckles from under the covers in his hotel room, the comforter tucked around them both, their legs twisted together at the ankles, laying together for a few more blissful moments.

There’s an untouched tray of food in front of him, and Emily wonders when the last time he’s eaten was. Surely not recently, she thinks with a frown. 

“You’re not at least going to eat the jello? That’s like … the safest thing on that tray.” She ignores the rumbling in her own stomach, telling herself she’ll get something on the way back to the hotel later on and instead watches him make a face at her suggestion.

“I prefer orange,” Aaron says casually, as if he isn’t spending the night in an unfamiliar hospital in the middle of Florida after coming dangerously close to something much worse, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. He mutters something about wanting to call Jack and Jessica, asking for the phone in his jacket pocket, so she hands it to him and slips out the door before he can be the wiser. 

And that is how Emily finds herself in the middle of a nearly empty grocery store in Orlando about an hour later, searching for orange jello while an old eighties ballad plays over the radio. The shelves are full of red and green jello but no orange. She scours them once, then twice, until finally finding the very last sleeve on the upper shelf, barely within eyesight. She has to reach for it, rising on tiptoe just a little, and she smiles to herself triumphantly, leaving with it tucked under her arm. Emily wears that same smile all the way back to the hospital.

“You know how hard it is to find orange Jello in the middle of Orlando?” Emily asks nearly forty-five minutes later when she returns to his room. The rest of the team is already back at the hotel, she’ll come up with an excuse later on about her delayed arrival. “You can’t just have red like most people?” 

“Orange is Jack’s favorite,” Aaron says simply, his face breaking into an amused smile at her special delivery. Emily can’t help but smile back, brilliantly, because his love for his son still makes her chest swell. She has never questioned his love for Jack, but over the last few months she’s  _ seen _ that love, along with their dynamic first hand, in action, and it’s one of the  _ many _ reasons she’s reminded of why she loves him in the first place. She thinks of the little boy she’s grown to adore, who is blissfully unaware of just what  _ could  _ have happened today.

“You scared the shit out of me today, you know.” Emily feigns anger, biting her lip as she peels the foil back, plopping a flimsy plastic spoon in the middle of the cup before passing it over to him. She doesn’t miss his subtle wince as he reaches for it.  _ He’ll be feeling this tomorrow _ . 

“I know.” Aaron is quiet because he too  _ knows _ it could have been a lot worse. “Thanks for the Jello. You really didn’t have to do this.” 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Emily says simply, settling into the uncomfortable chair next to his bed. She has at least a few more minutes before they kick her out for the night, she guesses. “So what’s Jack up to?” 

As he begins relaying the details of just  _ how _ excited Jack is for his dad to be home (hopefully with some type of Mickey Mouse souvenir), Emily decides Orlando will be on her shit list for quite a long time. 

_ An Even Closer Call _

At exactly 5:54 AM on June 25th, Ava Madeline Hotchner is born, and Aaron is instantly smitten as he becomes a father for the second time.

Emily’s pregnancy had been relatively easy (despite a rough bout of morning sickness in the first trimester) yet Ava’s arrival had been anything but that and things went from stressful to downright terrifying in a matter of moments towards the end.  _ An emergency  _ was all he needed to hear, and the world around him blurred instantly, his throat swelling and stomach twisting at the doctors’ sudden urgency, their worried voices and the intensity of it all **.** The whirlwind of alarms and monitors only added to his own fear, yet he’d done his best to hide it for Emily’s sake, because  _ nothing _ matched the terror in her eyes as a nurse relayed just what was happening in those long moments. It’s something Aaron wants to forget but knows he never will, no matter how hard he tries. 

But now, a few hours later, the summer sun high in the sky through the windows, things are calm and quiet, and he watches them both with sheer admiration in his eyes. His hand is numb from how tightly she had held it throughout the duration of her labor and delivery, the image of her face contorted in pain fresh in his mind. He’s also more than certain he  _ never  _ wants to hear the words  _ shoulder dystocia _ ever again. But  _ nothing _ compares to this, their family finally complete, after having waited for so long. 

“Your mother is on her way.” He drops his phone in his pocket after ending the call, watching Emily cradle their newborn daughter in her arms as if she’d been doing it her whole life. “She should be here within the hour or so.” Aaron could practically see his mother in law (it  _ still _ feels strange to think of Elizabeth Prentiss that way sometimes) beaming through the phone as he relayed the news. He left out some of the more dramatic details for her sake, but something tells him she’ll know everything sooner rather than later. Nothing was ever a secret from Elizabeth for very long. 

“You couldn’t hold her off a bit?” Emily shifts against the pillows, and he doesn’t miss the wince on her face when she does. She’s careful not to disturb the sleeping baby on her chest, already a natural, just as he knew she would be. “Not even until this afternoon?” She’s tired, Aaron knows, and rightfully so, but clearly so full of happiness it makes his heart ache with joy of his own. 

“It’s her first grandchild,” Aaron says, almost apologetically, remembering just how elated she’d sounded on the phone. “And you know she doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“Not from you, at least.” Emily says with a low chuckle, staring down at the pink bundle in her arms, a matching pink bow atop a full head of dark hair. “Some things never change, I guess.” 

“You’re certainly right about that.” His early memories of the Ambassador are still vividly clear. And while she’s still as formidable and stoic as before, she’s developed a bit of a soft spot for Aaron along the way. It’s a small reminder of how far they’ve come over time, and he harbors the smallest of affections for her, too. 

“Let’s just enjoy this moment for a little longer,” Emily says peacefully as Aaron settles on the edge of the bed, resting her head against his shoulder. “It won’t be quiet like this for much longer once we get her home, you know.”

A soft laugh escapes from his throat at the thought of how chaotic their house will become with the addition of another child. And it brings the lump right back to his throat as the events from before start to catch up with him.

“Not again, Aaron,” Emily says, her mild annoyance hidden in a tone of jest. “I’m  _ fine. We _ are fine.” She gives him a reassuring smile, reminding him that indeed it all turned out just alright in the end. 

“You scared me earlier,” he says, and he’s not entirely sure if he’s talking to Emily, or the baby in her arms -  _ their  _ daughter, the one they waited so long for. He slides an arm around her, pulling her close to him, being careful not to jostle her too much. It’s only been a few hours yet there’s no way to hide the fact that she’s already sore. 

“I know.” Emily snuggles her head into his shoulder a little more, shuddering slightly at the memory. “I guess she just wanted to make her presence known.” She says it flippantly, but it’s clear she feels exactly as he does, even as she does her best not to show it. “Today was … I’m just glad she’s here.” 

He lets her rest against him for a few minutes, holding her just a little closer to him. “Maybe we should change her middle name to Elizabeth then,” Aaron says lightly, dropping a light kiss on Emily’s nose with a smirk. “What do you think?”

_ London Calling _

Aaron isn’t a stupid man - he knows something is up. It’s nothing new. He sees it in her eyes on the plane, in her actions since she’d returned from Paris months ago, finally putting the saga of Ian Doyle behind them once and for all. The subtle withdrawal, the distance she’s put between herself and the rest of them. It’s coming, inevitable, and God be damned if he lets her go again. But everything is changed now, an erosion of what they had, and he’s watched it all spiral out of control for months.

Doyle had succeeded in taking her from them once, the repercussions of  _ that _ are about to take her from them again. Things are left unsaid and unsettled and over time her return is only in physical presence, because they’ve never been further apart than they are now. They never fully found their way back after all. The time apart should have healed all wounds yet it had the opposite effect. 

He’d attempted to break her walls down on the way to Houston in their search for the Piano Man, only to watch her past come back to haunt her as she interrogated Regina Lampert. His gentle attempts to comfort her hadn’t been enough. Instead those walls went right back up, pushing them all out in an attempt to maintain some semblance of control she so desperately sought. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but it was clear as day - everything had changed. 

Beth had been a distraction, and somehow he was one for her too. As the time slips on, sooner or later, it becomes obvious whatever it is  _ they’re _ doing is nothing more than running dates followed by coffee, along with a casual dinner or two. It has to stop - he owes her the truth and he’ll get there eventually.

Aaron ends things with Beth the day after he sees Clyde Easter slink out of the bullpen with an envelope in his arms. From his position at his office window, he sees Emily’s eyes locked on his telltale leather jacket and scarf as Clyde disappears from their line of sight into the elevators. Aaron has studied behavior long enough to know just what he’s doing there; this is by far not the first conversation Emily has had with her old superior. His presence is a final act that means one thing. She may as well hand in her resignation to the Bureau then and there, and sign a contract with Interpol on the spot. 

The only logical thing to do is pull out his phone, making the call he should have made months ago, asking her to meet later that afternoon. Beth is understanding; she’s known for some time that things aren’t working. “You need to tell Emily how you feel, Aaron,” is what she says before getting into her car, a knowing look in her eyes. “Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

But it might just be too late after all. 

The face he wears to JJ’s wedding is a brave one, but it’s a mask. He has no other choice, because this is a wedding - that of his dear friend, a celebration and a new beginning for them all, one sweet and one bitter. For him, it feels like a sobering loss, one he may never recover from. The first time had been hard enough. 

And there she is, as beautiful as the day he laid eyes on her all those years ago, a rare occasion in which she wears a dress with a greenish blue wrap, a drink going back and forth between her hands. She’s nervous, yet so is he, as Derek pulls Jack in the direction of the ornate fountain as a distraction, another display of opulence in Dave’s  _ ridiculously  _ fancy home. 

“Where’s Beth?” Emily asks once they’re alone, Jack distracted for the time being. She isn’t stupid either; she’s been watching him like he is her. She sees the vacancy at his side, and while her eyes are questioning, there’s no animosity in her tone. “I thought you - “

“We’re not together anymore.” Aaron passes his own drink between his hands, following her nervous lead, and waits for  _ her _ to say something. “Didn’t … work out.” 

“Ah. That’s … I’m sorry.” 

_ Not _ quite what he was expecting, so he tries again. “How are you?” 

It’s the exhale that gives her away. He knows that exhale. “That bad?” His words are a gentle push, not even close to what she needs to open up, but if he can just keep her here for a little while,  _ maybe _ there’s something he can do. He knows her, almost too well by now - the little idiosyncrasies that define her, the subtle shifts that show, but never fully give away, the wheels that constantly turn in her head. “That’s your tell.” 

There’s a slight blush, and a laugh that makes his eyes burn. “For how long?” 

“Ever since I’ve known you.” 

Except Emily knows  _ his _ tell, too, and her witty retort is a facade, for it’s all come down to this moment, and instead of just letting her off the hook, he challenges her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” _It_ could mean a number of things, but now it’s a final attempt to persuade her _not_ to go, because he knows it’s coming. It’s selfish at best and a bad idea at the worst, but he’s not ready yet. He’ll never be ready to say goodbye to her. “First thing tomorrow?” 

“It’s a date.” 

Those three words (not the three he  _ wanted _ to hear, but they’ll do for now) hold him over throughout the wedding ceremony. But it’s when he’s holding her in his arms through a dance at JJ’s wedding does he fully realize soon enough, she’ll be gone again. It’ll be like she never even came back at all. 

“Please don’t go,” Aaron whispers in her ear behind a curtain of dark hair. “How can I convince you to stay?” He has one hand gently around her back and the other linked between her fingers, and he uses the moment of silence to pull her in as close as he can. Emily doesn’t draw back, instead lets her body press against his, entirely too close to be a farewell dance between “friends” as they call themselves now. He whispers in her ear one last time, and says a silent prayer that it’s enough.

_ Every ending is also a beginning. We just don’t know it at the time. At least that’s what she’s always heard.  _

...

True to her word, Emily shows up at his door the next morning for their breakfast date, a last tentative promise, perhaps. Aaron stares with mild surprise to see that she isn’t wearing the dress she’d worn to the wedding last night.  _ Oh, right. It’s morning. The day after.  _ He’s barely slept at all, so time means little to him at this point _.  _ Instead, she’s wearing the old Yale sweatshirt he loves - the one with the cuffs worn thin with spots almost threadbare, and leggings. A different aesthetic than last night entirely, but one he likes just as much. 

“London calling?” He asks, fully expecting her response to fully split his chest into two broken halves.

She pauses for almost a full minute, arms crossed over her chest as her eyes search his face for the answers she already knows. “About that … I decided not to go, Aaron.” 

He blinks, wondering if he heard correctly. “What?” 

“I called Clyde last night. I told him no. He was disappointed, to say the least and he tried to talk me out of it but -” 

Aaron supposes there are words that could suffice, or he could even question her choice. But the relief that comes over him is consuming, and before he can stop himself, he pulls her over the threshold, pressing her back into the wall as he kisses her. He kisses her the way he plans to for the rest of his days, then carries her up the stairs to his bedroom. 

An hour later, she’s blissfully exhausted, resting against his chest as his fingers thread through her hair, the other hand on her shoulder. Aaron speaks first, the first words that come to mind. “You scared me, you know. I thought you were really … going to leave.” 

Emily grins, swiftly throwing a leg over his waist, sitting atop his lap. “Luckily,” she says coyly with a shift of her hips. “You’re pretty damn convincing.” 

They never do quite make it to breakfast, and almost a year later, there’s another wedding in Dave’s backyard. 

_ When The Past Comes Back To Scare Them Both _

Emily lays awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling of Aaron’s bedroom. Tonight, the four walls feel suffocating, the covers thick and heavy. There’s a cold drop of sweat between her shoulder blades, and every creak of the walls, every whistle of wind against the windows reminds her of Ian’s untimely arrival to the states. It can only mean one thing - the end is near.

Beside her, Aaron sleeps, but he’s restless, so she’s silent. Waking him would only worry him more so than he already is. Because he knows something is wrong, and he has for a while. She’s been secretive and dismissive and every one of his attempts to figure out just what the  _ hell _ is going on have failed miserably. 

It’s another hour of silence, coupled with his tossing and turning, before she finally slips out of bed without as much as a sound. She  _ needs _ to put some space between them, to pull away as he tries so desperately to hang on. And in the quiet solace of his bathroom, Emily pulls her legs to her chest and rests her head on her knees. She doesn’t cry just yet - she brought this mess upon herself - but her heart aches and her head hurts and if she could just - 

“Emily?” 

The sudden noise startles her, looking up to find Aaron poking his head around the bathroom door, looking confused. “You scared me,” she says quietly, and the sight of his disheveled appearance, having rolled straight out of bed, makes her chest hurt. “Go back to sleep. It’s late.” 

“Why are  _ you _ awake then?” He asks gently, his voice full of concern as he pushes the door open a little wider. “What are you doing in here?” His eyes adjust to the light, blinking vigorously. “What time is it?” 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Emily ignores the rest of his questions, instead flipping the knob of the shower, quick thinking to appease him as the rushing water muffles her voice just enough. “I thought a shower might help.” Yet she barely turns her head, because it’s getting harder and harder to look him in the eye every day knowing what she knows, what will soon happen as Ian only gets closer to them both. She keeps her back turned, willing him to leave as she leaves her clothes on the floor as she ducks under the spray. 

Aaron shakes his head, too tired to argue even if he knows it’s an excuse.  _ What he doesn’t remind her is they’d taken a shower together, earlier that night. There’s no need for another _ . “I’m going back to bed.” 

When the door closes behind him, Emily is already silently sobbing under the pelting spray of the showerhead.

Later that morning, after a few more less than stellar hours of sleep, he can’t hold back anymore. 

“What is it you’re not telling me? He sets his mug down with just a little too much force, and the bang of porcelain against the counter makes her jump. “ _ Please _ .” 

“Nothing, Aaron.”  _ It’s better if you don’t know. You’ll learn that soon enough _ . She quietly finishes her own coffee, and gathering her things takes more effort than it should.

“I’m  _ scared _ , Emily. Whatever you’re  _ hiding _ is scaring me.” His face is lined with fear, his jaw tight and eyes dark. 

“Don’t be.” She tightens the belt of her leather jacket around her waist, forcing as calm of a smile as she can. It’s the farthest thing from the truth, and there’s nothing like the pain of lying to him. “Everything is just fine.” 

_ The First Time _

The first time it happens, they each scare the other. And when it does, he’s never even  _ met _ her before, and she doesn’t even know his name. Aaron has only heard of her - the Ambassador’s Daughter, a title she probably hates more than anything. He’s seen her around the mansion since he started there not too long ago. She reminds him of a moody Snow White, with the same dark hair, pale skin, and red lips, a frequent scowl on her beautiful face.  _ Emily _ is her name, and she spends a good deal of time arguing with her mother, coincidentally around the time he makes his rounds every afternoon. Nothing phases her, and he finds her just the slightest bit intriguing. 

Aaron knows it’s only a matter of time until their paths cross. 

Two weeks later, the security office is all but _dead_ , like it typically is at this time of night. It’s also the early hours of Tuesday morning in the middle of July, and even though the sun set hours ago, it’s still sweltering outside, and the nearly broken air conditioner does little to prevent him from sweating through his suit. He’s on overnight desk duty, covering for a last-minute call out, and while he hadn’t exactly _believed_ Agent Thomas’s less than convincing excuse, he begrudgingly agreed to take the shift. 

The ringing phone startles him so much he nearly throws his book out of his hands and slides right off his chair.  _ Who _ would be calling the private security office number at this time of night? Unless something was truly wrong. “Security,” he grumbles with a check of his watch. 1:53 AM.  _ This better not be a prank _ . 

“I need to speak to Agent Thomas,” says the voice on the other end of the line. “Now.” 

“He called off unexpectedly,” Aaron says, immediately noting the other voice is female, and whoever it is sounds  _ very _ persistent, and  _ very drunk _ . “Who is this?” 

“ _ Fuck,”  _ the other voice whispers, sounding a bit more desperate than just moments before. “ _ Be quiet,” _ she says to whoever is in the background, another voice that sounds female, and just as drunk. “What do you mean he called off?” 

“ _ Who _ is this?” Aaron asks a little louder this time. “How did you get this number?” 

“You tell me yours first.” 

“My name is Aaron Hotchner. I’m the -” 

“Oh, right,” the girl whispers. “The new guy.” There’s a pause, and the sound of broken glass, the bang of a fist on a door. “I know you. You’re the one who looks like you have a stick permanently shoved up your - ”  _ Another  _ bang on the door cuts off the last part of her sentence. 

_ What the fuck is going on _ ? “Is this Emily?” He asks, his annoyance fading to concern when he realizes just why she may be calling. “Emily Prentiss?”

Another pause, coupled with a shout in the background this time. “Maybe. Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“Where are you?”  _ None _ of this sounds good. He’s well aware the Ambassador’s daughter is underage, meaning she certainly shouldn’t be drunk, let alone drunk at 2 AM making clandestine phone calls behind closed doors in unknown locations to the Security office. Something is  _ very _ wrong. 

“I … uh. I need someone to pick me up. Agent Thomas always -” 

“Give me your address,” he says without a moment’s hesitation, and he wonders if he could lose his job for what he’s about to do. 

Emily rattles off a place in Falls Church ( _ just what is she doing in Falls Church?) _ and when she thanks him, he can hear the relief in her voice. 

...

_ How the fuck did she find this place?  _ He thinks as he spots her from across the street, coming out of the seedy house alone. She’s the girl he’s seen in photographs around the mansion, just wearing much less clothing this time. She’s walking in the  _ opposite  _ direction, and he runs to catch up to her before she disappears around the corner. Aaron puts a hand on Emily’s shoulder when he’s close enough to touch her, and when she spins around, she smacks him right in the jaw with the purse over her arm. What he didn’t realize until just now is that there’s a nearly full bottle of vodka in the purse.

“ _ What the fuck?”  _ He yelps as pain radiates through his face, his teeth slicing into his gums. “Why did you -” 

“ _ Jesus Christ!”  _ She shrieks in fear at the same time, stunned by his sudden arrival, stumbling backwards, and Aaron recovers quickly enough to grab her arm just in time before she hits the pavement headfirst, pulling her back to her feet. “What the  _ fuck _ are you doing?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” Aaron says, rubbing his rapidly bruising jaw with his free hand. “You always lug that thing around like that? You could kill someone with that.” 

“Never know when you might need it. Like when  _ a stranger _ grabs you out of fucking nowhere,” Emily retorts. And even though she eyes him suspiciously, she agrees to let him drive her home, slinging her purse over her shoulder as the two of them walk mere inches apart back towards the car. He’s impressed, because even in her drunk state she hardly wavers on her high heels at all. “You scared the shit out of me, you know.”

“Consider us even, then.” He’s going to desperately need some ice on his face very soon, and he’d venture a guess Emily won’t be feeling too great the next day. Her eyes are glassy and bloodshot, and once in the car, he passes her a bottle of water from the center console. “Here.” He decides  _ not _ to ask about just what the hell she was doing there at that house. At least not yet. That’s a conversation for later.

She takes the water gratefully, downing the first half in one less than graceful gulp, watching him warily. “Yup. You’re definitely the new security guy.” 

“The one and only,” he says lightly with interest, exiting onto the highway towards DC. “Nice to meet you, Emily.” 

“And you too…” she trails off, a sheepish grin on her face. “What’s your name again?” 

“Aaron.” 

“I’m really sorry for smacking you in the face, Aaron.” There’s a bigger smile tugging at the corners of her lips when she says it, and he knows then and there he’s a goner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 
> 
> Next up: 5 times they ... you tell me! I'm open to suggestions ; )
> 
> Edited to add - 5 Times They Got Dressed Up! : )

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


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